


stress relief

by andreaphobia



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - Never Met, M/M, Smut, Wall Sex, butt stuff, orgasms as stress relief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 16:51:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16433228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andreaphobia/pseuds/andreaphobia
Summary: Rin is having a no-good, very bad,terribleday.A hot neighbor helps him deal with the stress.





	stress relief

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gintokis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gintokis/gifts).



> Again—I have no excuses. Hope you guys like smut.
> 
> A special gift for [Silvia](http://hijikata-han.tumblr.com), goddess of the draws.

 

 

Rin was having a no-good, very bad, and above all, _frustrating_ day.

It was bad enough that he’d put on the morning shift on a Saturday, but—with what one might consider classic Matsuoka flair—he just had to go and make things worse. Being only fractionally awake at a quarter to five in the morning, he’d put bread in the toaster oven and then promptly dozed off. This led to both a charred breakfast and a late arrival at the shop, whereupon he was immediately chewed out by acting shift supervisor Mikoshiba.

Nor was this the end of his troubles. At nine-thirty, Nitori dropped a bottle of caramel sauce near his feet, which had burst open, gumming up his sneakers for the rest of the shift. Then, during rush hour, he had a mocha latte thrown at him by a disgruntled customer (“I asked for _decaf_ , idiot”), which meant that he spent several frantic minutes mopping the mess off the floor while everyone else stumbled around him, trying to actually get things done.

By the time he got off work at two, Rin had just about had it. He got home, peeled off his caramelly socks in disgust and threw them into his laundry hamper, and then got into the shower. The hot water helped with the soreness of his muscles, but it didn’t do a thing for his mood. He sulked in there for fifteen minutes, then finally gave up on the idea that he’d start feeling better naturally, and shut the water off.

It was time to take matters into his own hands. In nothing but his bath towel, he marched into his bedroom and made a beeline for the drawer of his bedside table. Inside lay the keys to relaxation after a hard day; maybe the only thing that could have salvaged his mood at that point. They were—in order of their extraction from said drawer—a bottle of extra-thick Astroglide, a jumbo-sized box of condoms, and a six-inch-long wobbly pink silicone dildo that he had affectionately nicknamed ‘Sakura’ after getting one too many drinks into his system.

Rin carried these items out to the living room and laid them reverently on the coffee table, spread out beside his laptop. He logged in on his laptop and browsed for a while before settling on a particular video from his collection. It wasn’t art, by any stretch of imagination—just some guys boning in a locker room with some crappy excuse for dialogue—but then again, it didn’t have to be. All he needed were the visuals to get going.

Still naked, he flopped down lazily on the couch and spread his legs, making himself comfortable as he watched the two men on screen stumbling through their shitty script. They had started the scene mostly clothed, in athletic shirts and tiny shorts that were far too tight to actually be used on the field, but it wasn’t long before they started stripping each other. The camera panned gratuitously over their bare backs, shoulders, buttocks, and of course their pricks, and Rin felt his own starting to respond to all the man meat on display.

Obligingly, he cupped it with one hand, curling fingers around the shaft to give himself a few lazy strokes. With each throb of his pulse it stiffened a little more, growing and lengthening even as he watched, hard and slender against his palm.

They were kissing now on the screen, their hands roaming as they felt each other up, and suddenly one of them groaned so loud that it could probably have been heard next door. Rin winced, reaching out hurriedly with his free hand to lower the volume on his laptop. Then, as though he’d only just remembered, he turned his gaze consideringly on the bottle of Astroglide that sat on the table next to his laptop.

Normally, he’d spend a little more time getting himself worked up to _that_ point, but patience was not in his vocabulary; continuing to drag things out did not appeal to him in the slightest. He wanted it, _needed_ it now—needed the deliciously fierce white-hot stretch inside him, the sensation of his insides being pried open with force again and again and again. He picked up his phone and stared at the screen, entertaining vague thoughts of texting Sousuke and asking him to come over. But they were still kind of in a snit with each other after the last stupid argument they’d had, and he couldn’t quite imagine swallowing his pride long enough to make that booty call.

Rin put his phone down and let go of his dick, reaching out to grab the bottle. With the cap flipped up, he tried not to spill as he squeezed a decent amount across the fingers of his left hand, but a glob splattered onto his thigh anyway. Sighing, he scooped up what he could, leaving a goopy smear behind. Hunched back against the couch cushions, he hiked his legs up and spread them wider, then reached down tentatively towards the tight pucker of his asshole.

He hadn’t spent any time trying to warm up the lube with his body heat, so the first touch of a fingertip was shockingly cold, and he hissed softly, a small trembling convulsion rolling through him. He still didn’t want to wait, though; he spent all of eight seconds teasing the sensitive skin around the entrance before he’d had enough and simply started working a finger into himself, without any fanfare.

The first went smoothly enough, so it was quickly joined by a second; he spread and scissored them, exhaling sharply as he did so at the curious sensation of being opened up from the inside. It was always heady, strangely gratifying, no matter how many times he did it to himself, and he could feel precome starting to well up at the tip of his prick, even though he’d neglected to touch it ever since he’d started fingering himself.

He added a third slippery finger, and groaned softly at the stretch, the gradually increasing sense of fullness. It wasn’t quite enough, though; that would happen later. Or actually, Rin thought, eyeing the dildo, maybe it would happen now. He’d hardly spent any time preparing himself and he had no doubts that he’d walk away sore—but on days like _this_ , that sweet ache, that tenderness that lingered afterwards only made the experience better.

His decision already made, Rin pulled a condom out of the box, unwrapped it, and then rolled it down over the dildo. He slathered more lube on it, his movements sloppy from anticipation, then grabbed it by the base, lying back on the couch. With great care, he touched the tip of it to himself, just _barely_ pressing in, the little ring of muscle flexing, twitching wildly with need. His elbow trembling slightly from the effort of holding himself back from just shoving it all in at once, he took a deep breath—and that was when the building’s fire alarm went off.

In some ways it was a good thing that fire alarms were so damn loud, because otherwise the neighbors would have heard him scream _FUCK!_ at the top of his lungs. He fell off the couch, hit his head on the coffee table and dropped the slippery dildo, which promptly rolled off across the floor as though it had decided to go for a walk, leaving a lovely slimy trail of lube in its wake.

Eyes watering, half from pain and half from sheer bloody _agonizing_ frustration, Rin simply lay on his back on the floor for a good fifteen seconds, staring at the ceiling and just daring the sprinklers to pop out and douse him and all of his earthly belongings in disgusting sewer water, to top off this completely and utterly shit day. Nothing happened, though, so eventually he got up.

The alarm was still going. Probably wasn’t even for real, Rin thought bitterly. Still buck naked, although he’d gone completely soft, he walked over to the window to take a look. Come to think of it, it was awfully smoky outside for a false alarm. He opened the window and poked his head out, looking left first and then right, along the sides of the apartment building. Black smoke appeared to be pouring out of a window on the third floor, somewhere off to his right.

Rin decided not to wait to find out if the alarm was real or not. He hastily washed his hands off in the kitchen sink, grabbed the bath towel that was on the couch and his keys, tied the towel tight around his waist, and left the flat. Yeah, it wasn’t ideal and maybe he was leaking lube down the insides of his thighs, but he’d rather that than be wearing a fully coordinated outfit while burning to a crisp inside his apartment.

He sprinted down the corridor, skidding to a stop by the stairwell and dashing inside—only to rub smack dab into someone who was coming down the stairs from the next floor up. There was no time to react or apologize; he stumbled back into the door, barely managing to hang on to his towel, while the other guy straight-up fell on his ass, landing hard with a _whoomph_ that sounded like all the air being knocked out of him.

“Oh, shit.” Blinking rapidly, Rin shook his head a little to clear it, then immediately advanced forward, extending a hand to help the guy up. “Shit, sorry about that, I didn’t know you were—”

 _Hung_ , his brain unhelpfully supplied. _Also, naked, for some reason?_ Unable to control himself, Rin stopped dead in his tracks and simply gawped. The guy who lay groaning and slightly stunned on the floor in front of him was naked, and... well, _damn_.

This had to be some kind of test, or maybe the gods were messing with him... or maybe life really was just that unfair. With no clothes on the guy, Rin could see that he was solidly built; he had big green eyes and broad, muscled shoulders that called to mind a certain video Rin had just been watching. There was a towel across his legs, apparently dislodged from his waist during his fall, and—it had to be said—doing absolutely nothing to protect his modesty.

From long experience in locker rooms, both real as well as pornographic, Rin knew that some guys were growers and some guys were showers—and this one was definitely a shower. If he was that big soft, Rin found himself wondering, how much bigger could he get?

He opened his mouth to try to say something else, maybe to cover the awkward moment, but all that came out was a weird dazed sound like ‘ _mweh?_ ’. Meanwhile, the guy seemed to have come back to his senses; blushing beet red, he yanked the towel up to cover his groin, scrambling unsteadily back to his feet.

“Oh my god, I’m _so_ sorry, I just—I was in the shower when the alarm went off and I didn’t have time to—this must be so awkward for you—” He paused, apparently noticing Rin was in the same predicament, and smiled, tremulously. “Oh, you were showering too, huh?”

Rin coughed. “Something like that. Don’t worry about it.” He flinched as the guy frowned suddenly, peering closer at Rin, though he was still clutching the towel to himself like a vestal maiden trying to protect her modesty.

“Um, are you... okay?”

“Huh?”

“You look like you’ve... um...” The guy looked fretful for a moment, like he was having difficulty finding the right word, and then sighed, apparently abandoning diplomacy. “Like you’ve been crying, or something.”

It was Rin’s turn to flush. He scrubbed at his face hurriedly, his hands coming away wet—and boy, wasn’t _that_ humiliating? At the same time, he suddenly became conscious of the fact that he was naked and talking to a hot also-naked stranger, and his treacherous thirsty dick perked up again. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, trying to use the pain as a distraction, but only experienced marginal success.

“No, uh, it’s—it’s whatever. Not a big deal.” This, however, did nothing to convince the stranger; those big green eyes continued to watch him, brimming with gentle concern. Fortunately, though, the sound of sirens approaching from down the street reminded them to get moving again, and Rin was relieved as they quickly left the subject behind.

They stumbled down the rest of the stairs and eventually reached the street outside, joining a crowd of other evacuees mingling with rubberneckers and passers-by. As he watched the guy messing with his towel, which was just a little too small to cover him up properly, Rin found himself experiencing an interesting mix of feelings. (It was a real shame that he wasn’t going to be flashing Rin anymore, but it would also have been a shame if he was arrested for public indecency, so overall it was probably unavoidable.)

He wondered if this counted as making a connection, and whether it was worth trying his luck. Certainly the way the guy had blushed as he’d tried to cover himself up was an image that was going straight into Rin’s spank bank—but that didn’t mean he’d be amenable to hanging out, outside of Rin’s imagination.

 _You miss all of the shots you don’t take_ , he reminded himself sternly, and opened his mouth.

“So.” Despite his attempt at a conversational tone, the guy immediately looked up, his expression attentive. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. Did you move in recently? What’s your name?”

The guy smiled—but unfortunately, he was interrupted before he could say a word.

“Makoto-kun!” A girl’s voice, followed by a giggle. “Oh my gosh, who is _that_? Why aren’t you guys wearing anything?”

Almost instantly, Rin’s interesting feelings began to cool. The stranger—‘Makoto’, apparently—was blushing beet red in the direction of the girl, stammering out the same excuse that he’d given to Rin.

“You guys were showering _together_?” The girl clapped a hand over her mouth, faux scandalized.

“N- _no_! I meant we were just—”  

Rin couldn’t bear to hear another word of it. Well, he should’ve figured a guy who looked like _that_ would be straight. When the hell did he ever get lucky, anyway? Pissily, he turned and began to stalk off.

“Hey—wait! Um—” There was a momentary flash of what looked like frustration on Makoto’s face, but you could’ve missed it if you blinked. He clearly did not know how to politely extract himself from his current conversation, while also maintaining a conversation with someone who was rapidly walking away from him. The idea that he’d put that look on Makoto’s face gave Rin a weird kind of satisfaction. “What’s your apartment number?” he asked Rin. “Mind if I drop by later?”

Rin gave him a cool, deliberate look. The girl was still standing there, looking between the two of them with confusion on her face. That reflected how Rin felt; he wasn’t sure about this, but... maybe there was a chance...?

“It’s five oh four,” he said, curtly. “See you.” And kept walking.

 

-

 

They were let back into the building soon enough. The smoke turned out to be a pan left on a stove too long that caught fire, but the damage wasn’t serious. No harm done, basically—apart from ruining Rin’s entire fucking day. He stomped back into his apartment, not caring for a second that he was just being stupid and juvenile, and threw himself down onto the couch in a huff.

Then he got up again, and grumpily picked up the sad, unused dildo. He peeled the condom off of it, tossed that into the trash, and then went to rinse it off at the kitchen sink. He had just finished putting it back into his bedroom drawer when the doorbell rang.

 _Oh, great_. Given the mood that he was in, part of him already regretted giving that guy his apartment number, and he had half a mind to just pretend he wasn’t home. On the other hand, they had literally all just walked into the building together once the all-clear was given, so he wouldn’t have been fooling anyone. (Not that that had ever stopped him from being rude in the past, but still...)

Scowling slightly, he answered the door. Actually, he smelled Makoto before he even saw him; Rin hadn’t noticed it before in all the excitement, but he had a very strong scent, probably because he’d just gotten out of the shower: a clean, soapy smell, with just a hint of musk, layered below the masculine scent of what was probably his deodorant. It was incredibly enticing—it reminded Rin of locker rooms and men in skimpy athletic shorts, a thought which he quickly tried to stifle.

He was fully dressed now, though, which was quite a pity. His attire was casual, a flannel shirt over a tee and jeans, the very picture of the boy next door. It occurred to Rin that he was still only wearing a towel, and he felt slightly ridiculous. Nevertheless, this did not stop Makoto from giving him a winning smile that made him weak at the knees.

“Hey.” For some reason, he sounded a little breathless. “Sorry we got interrupted before, I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself. I’m Tachibana Makoto. I, um, kinda just wanted to check on you, see if you were okay.”

Rin was nonplussed. “Matsuoka Rin. I’m... fine?”

Makoto smiled again, more nervously this time. “Rin, huh? It’s nice to meet you. Um... are you sure you’re okay, though? Because—”

Rin raised his eyebrows; hot or not, he wasn’t that big of a fan of strangers getting all up in his business. “Yeah, I’m sure. What’s your deal, anyway? You don’t even know me.”

“That’s true,” Makoto agreed, amiably. “I don’t know, you just seemed...” He turned his eyes down to the floor for a moment. It was strange how he could make himself seem so small when he was nearly two inches taller than Rin. “Like, really upset about something. I guess I found myself wanting to help. Sorry... I’m just nosy that way, haha.” He fidgeted a little, and Rin hated himself for thinking that it was adorable. “Can I... come in?”

His smile was wide-eyed and sincere. Rin felt a small part of himself melt, and then wanted to punch that part of himself in the teeth. He threw up his hands with a sigh.

“Ugh. Fine.”

He turned away, but left the door ajar—an invitation with plausible deniability. Beaming, Makoto walked in after him, shutting the door behind himself and pulling off his sneakers.

By the time Rin remembered the interesting array of objects laid out on his coffee table, it was too late. Thank God he’d already put the dildo away—but the jumbo box of condoms wasn’t easy to miss, nor was the full-screen freeze-frame of one of the athletic young men deepthroating the other with pornographic enthusiasm. There was a moment of frozen horror before he scrambled forward, slamming the lid of the laptop shut, then scooping up the box of condoms and the lube and shoving them comically behind his bare back.

“This isn’t—uhhhh—I swear it’s not what it looks like! I was just...”

Biting his lip, he peeked at Makoto. Makoto’s eyes were popping out of his head, and he was slowly turning red from the top down. A flush had spread from his ears down his cheeks to his throat, giving him a most attractive glow. Averting his eyes, he covered his mouth sheepishly with one hand.

“...oh, gosh.” He sounded even more flustered than he looked, which was quite a feat. “Is that. I mean. I didn’t realize I was interrupting. I wouldn’t have—if I’d known—”

“You weren’t interrupting anything,” Rin said, hastily. “I was basically done with it, anyway. Fire alarms kinda ruin the mood, you know?”

There was an awkward silence. After a moment or two, though, their eyes met. Rin wasn’t sure who smiled first, but within seconds they were both laughing, and the tension had dissipated, as quickly as it’d come.

Still chuckling softly, Makoto shook his head. “So, um, is that why you looked so...” He raised a hand, grasping at thin air like he was trying to pluck the right word out of it. “So upset?”

Flushing, Rin put the box and the bottle back on the coffee table, figuring there was no reason to keep trying to hide them. He sat down on the couch and Makoto followed his lead, seating himself politely on the other end, just out of arm’s reach.

“Maybe.” It was a bit cryptic of him, but then again it’s not as if Makoto needed all the details. “I just... really needed to relax today, I guess.” He sighed, pressing himself back into the couch. “It all feels a bit pointless now, though.”

Makoto made a low humming noise of acknowledgment somewhere in his throat as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees and chin resting in his palms. He seemed to be looking around, taking in the look and feel of the apartment, although occasionally his gaze wandered back to the coffee table and what was on it, lingering there for longer than mere curiosity might have necessitated.

“Just... checking out my apartment, then?” Rin asked, wryly.

“Sorta.” Again, a thoughtful hum. Then Makoto looked directly at him. He took a deep breath. “Can I help?”

Rin blinked. “With what?” Then it hit him, and it was like all the air was sucked out of the room; his chest constricted, like he was in a vacuum and his ribcage was caving in. “You mean...”

The corners of Makoto’s mouth quirked. Not quite a smile; more of a _look_ , with a little extra meaning tucked in. “With relaxing. That is, if you think having a partner would help.” He shrugged. “I usually find that it does. And I like helping.”

Makoto was so casual about it that it shook Rin to his core, but he’d be damned if he was going to let any of that show on his face. He attempted to grin. “Well, I guess I’ve already seen you naked, huh?”

“Accidentally, yes.” Makoto sounded a little rueful, as though he felt that there were better circumstances under which that could have happened. He tilted his head with a curious look. “Did you like what you saw?”

Rin bit his lip, but did not answer—which, he realized, was an answer in itself. His face was uncomfortably hot and he did not know what to say. They were... flirting? He supposed they were. Normally this wouldn’t have bothered him, but something about Makoto’s demeanor, so quiet and understated, was throwing him for a loop. He didn’t know where his confidence had gone.

Makoto chuckled at his silence, and spoke again.

“What were you doing when the alarm went off?”

This time, Rin had an answer. He hardly recognized his own voice; it came out raspy and low, spilling a dirty little secret for the first time.

“...Fingering myself.”

He watched Makoto’s throat work, his Adam’s apple dipping as he swallowed. Something about his expression had changed, and it took Rin a little while to realize exactly what—it was his eyes, the dilation of his pupils darkening them, adding a glimpse of danger to an otherwise sweet face.

“Does that help you relax?”

A nod.

“Do you... like being filled up?”

Rin shut his eyes, shame and pride and sheer fucking desire all warring inside him. This guy was a total stranger—but he was hot, hung, and buff as fuck. All Rin knew was his name—but he seemed so sweet. They’d known each other for barely half an hour and were already talking dirty to each other. Rin wanted Makoto to pick him up, bend him over the couch, and fuck his brains out. He wanted to feel so full that he couldn’t think, and to come so hard that he wouldn’t have to in the first place.

That desire won out in the end.

“I love it,” he whispered.

Makoto groaned softly. He was no longer resting his chin in his palms; his hands were now on his thighs, which were spread wide. He swiped his tongue over his lips, leaving a wet sheen of saliva over them.

“I could... do that for you. If you wanted.” He cleared his throat, roughly. “If it would help.”

“That’s generous of you.” Makoto looked worried until he realized Rin was joking; he gave a tentative smile, shifting closer on the couch. At the same time, Rin reached out, his hands finding the back of Makoto’s neck to drag Makoto down on top of himself.

Their noses brushed. Up this close Makoto’s scent was overpowering; he smelled precisely like an athlete who’d just stepped out of the shower, and a desperate heat squirmed in Rin’s belly.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” Makoto murmured, close to Rin’s face.

This, Rin found quite amusing. “Why are you asking?”

Tentative, almost affectionate, Makoto traced a finger over the curve of Rin’s jaw, stopping when he reached his chin to give him a gentle poke there. “It’s important,” he said, seriously. “Also, I don’t know whether you actually want that. If this is just stress relief, then... I mean, some guys just don’t like that kind of thing.”

Rin scoffed, quietly. “Kissing is fine.” And then, probably sounding less nonchalant than he was aiming for, “I might have a thing for using my mouth.”

“Oh.” The look on Makoto’s face said, clearly, that he was going to remember that for later. “Okay.”

He leaned closer, and without thinking Rin shut his eyes. Because of that the first kiss was fumbling; their mouths collided at an awkward angle and it was ruined anyway when Makoto laughed, and cupped Rin’s face with both hands to hold it still.

The second time was ripe. Makoto’s mouth moved over Rin’s, which opened almost immediately; his tongue was deft and Rin could feel it sliding delicately along the inside of his teeth. He moaned and Makoto swallowed it whole, kissed him harder; he could feel his breath slipping away, fleeing town with all coherent thought packed in a briefcase.

Pinned against the couch, he could feel Makoto moving a knee up between his legs, shifting the bath towel aside. He pressed against it, fully without shame, rocking himself into Makoto’s thigh for a little friction, and a _lot_ of heat and pressure. When it began to overwhelm he pulled back with a soft gasp. His lips tingled; he was sure they were swollen, and savored the feel of it.

“We’re gonna do more than this, right?” he bit out, quietly. Not that he wanted to sound ungrateful or anything—but on some level, he felt that he’d waited quite long enough.

Grinning a little, Makoto raised himself up on his elbows. He kept most of his body weight off of Rin, but the pressure of his thigh between Rin’s legs remained.

“Sure,” he murmured. “Now?”

And Rin almost said _yes_ , but stopped himself just in time. It didn’t seem fair for him to be naked with Makoto still fully clothed; at the least, he ought to lose _some_ of his clothing.

“Take off your clothes first.”

In response to this, Makoto sat back, shrugging off his flannel shirt and draping it over the back of the couch. This was followed swiftly by his T-shirt, which he grabbed by the collar at the back of his neck to drag over his head. With front row seats to the Makoto show, it was impossible not to admire his physique, and Rin did so gladly—he reached out to touch, to feel the way muscles coiled and flexed beneath tanned skin, and grinned at the way they tensed shyly under his palms.

Watching him curiously, maybe blushing a little, Makoto tipped his head to one side.

“Is that... enough?”

It wasn’t, really, but impatience won out.

“For now, I guess,” Rin muttered. He lifted his hips to pull his towel away, tossing it onto the floor to leave himself completely naked on the couch under Makoto. His prick fell to rest against his belly, the tip already slick with precum, leaving a sticky trail across his abs.

Makoto’s eyes went wide, drinking in the sight of him, and under his stare Rin felt his body growing hot. But as daunting as it was to have eyes on him like that, it didn’t seem to affect his dick one bit—it remained cheerfully hard and ready to go, fully erect despite his embarrassment.

For his part, Makoto certainly seemed to like what he was seeing. He smiled, sliding a hand under one of Rin’s knees to gently coax his legs apart, and said in reverent tones, “You look... gorgeous, Rin.”

“You’re a sweet-talker, huh?” Rin muttered, turning his head to one side to stare sulkily at the back of the couch.

Makoto only smiled. “Do you need me to... um...” Seemingly embarrassed at having to say the words, Makoto held up a hand, making a kind of illustrative gesture. Rin just snorted impatiently, raising his hips and tilting them towards Makoto in a clear invitation.

“I told you, I already took care of that. Just put on the damn condom and let’s go.”

He was probably being too forward, but the desire to be filled, to have something inside him, had returned in full force, inundating his senses; it was hard to think of anything else. Makoto’s stammered reply was quickly lost and forgotten. He undid the button on his jeans, sliding the zipper down, then shucked them halfway down his hips so that he could slip himself out of them and _oh_ , just as Rin thought, he was even bigger when he was hard. Rin’s eyes bugged out for a moment, anticipation with a hint of fear settling hard like a stone in his belly at the thought of taking all of that inside him. Would he break? Did it even matter? He was hungry for it and nothing else would satisfy, that was for sure.

With shaky hands, Makoto pulled on a condom. He cupped a squeeze of lube in his palms for a moment before rubbing it on, then gave himself a few good strokes, as though for luck.

Then he let go of himself, looking down at Rin again. Something about his behavior seemed almost nervous—which was laughable, really, given how he’d just been acting. He was an interesting, infuriating mix of contradictions, and Rin found himself hating and loving it at the same time.

“Are you sure about this?” he murmured.

Rin flung arms around his shoulders, hips raised up, hooking his ankles behind Makoto’s back and swore.

“Fuckin’ _do_ it already, Christ—”

Whatever else he was going to say was swallowed up in Makoto’s mouth. That turned out to be a good thing, though, because Makoto began pressing against him at the same time, harder and harder until finally the head of his prick popped past Rin’s entrance, and Rin nearly screamed from the sensation; from the fulfillment of everything he’d been waiting for. He was so fucking _thick_ all the way around, thicker than the dildo that Rin used, and the pressure was immense, all-consuming. Rin felt like he was going to cry, or come, or maybe both at the same time, and it only got worse as Makoto began to open him up—with shallow little thrusts that went slightly deeper each time, working him and loosening him up so he could take more and more of Makoto’s length. He was clawing at Makoto’s back, he was speaking in tongues; he could not see through the tears that were squeezed out through the corners of his eyes, but every word was _yes_ , _more_ , _don’t stop_ , and Makoto didn’t. He gave Rin everything he wanted and everything he hadn’t known he’d needed; he filled Rin up with himself until it felt like there was no room for anything else.

It seemed like an eternity before Makoto finally stopped moving. His pelvis had come to rest flush against Rin’s buttocks; he was buried in Rin as deep as he could go from that angle.

“You doing okay?” Makoto said, hoarsely. It seemed to be taking all of his willpower not to move.

Shaking a little, Rin dragged the back of his hand over his wet eyes.

“It’s good,” he rasped. “But—more. Not enough.”

That wasn’t exactly a complete sentence, but Makoto understood. He seemed to think for a few moments, and then it was like a lightbulb went off. He nuzzled Rin’s wet cheek to get his attention.

“Hold on to me.”

“Wuh?”

Instead of repeating himself, Makoto started guiding Rin’s arms around the back of his shoulders, and eventually Rin caught on, tightening his grip to hang on to Makoto. It was still a surprise, though, when Makoto lifted him bodily and effortlessly off the couch, still joined together below the waist.

“Wait, what the hell—?”

“Don’t worry.” Makoto’s voice was soothing. “I’ve got you.”

Cradling Rin against himself, with Rin’s arms around his shoulders and his legs still wrapped around Makoto’s back, he maneuvered them around the couch and then backed Rin slowly into the nearest wall, which happened to be one that Rin shared with a neighbor. By this time, Rin had managed to recover slightly from the onslaught of pleasure and from the distracting fullness inside him. He was just about to open his mouth and say something when Makoto adjusted their positions a little, placing his hands on the wall to either side of Rin’s head, then thrusted up into him, just once.

For a moment, Rin went blind; he could see nothing but stars. It went deep inside him, deeper than even before. With gravity’s assistance, his ass came all the way down against Makoto’s hips and it felt like he was taking Makoto to the root or even past that, like that were physically possible. The angle was different, too, but in the best kind of way. All his nerve endings were ablaze and he was choking on pleasure, drowning in it—losing himself entirely.

“Oh, _shit_ ,” he hissed. Makoto favored him with a mischievous smile.

“More?”

Rin grabbed Makoto’s face and stared directly into his eyes, looking like a man possessed.

“Shut up and _fuck_ me already,” he hissed.

Upon hearing _that_ , Makoto didn’t hesitate. Holding Rin against the wall, he began to thrust, practically bouncing Rin up and down in his lap as he rammed their bodies together. It was heaven. Rin clung to him and moaned, even louder when Makoto pressed fingers past his lips into his mouth, mimicking the movements of their lower bodies. He couldn’t think. Makoto fucked him, slammed into him so hard that for half a moment he almost imagined them crashing right through the wall and into his neighbor’s living room. The thought slipped away as quickly as it had come, though; with that dick splitting him apart, Makoto’s fingers in his mouth, his mind was wiped blissfully clean, and all that was left was the overflowing pleasure.

He raked stubby nails over Makoto’s back and shoulders, probably even drawing blood, but he couldn’t stop himself. The pressure was mounting in his balls, he wanted it, _needed_ it, had waited so long for it—and was finally driven over the edge when Makoto, still jackhammering into him relentlessly, sunk teeth into his bare throat—gentle enough not to mark, but sharp enough to sting.

He may have screamed or wailed, something along the lines of _holy fuck_ —he would later claim that he remembered doing no such thing. His mind was gone and his body was out of control; he thrashed, arms flailing and feet kicking wildly at Makoto’s back. Each wave of his orgasm seemed to be wash over him in time with Makoto’s thrusts; every spurt of cum felt like it was fucked right out of him as it sprayed messily over their bellies and chests. Halfway through his orgasm the full-body shaking began, and Makoto, perhaps sensing that Rin was reaching some kind of limit, began to slow down, though still fucking him gently through it, keeping his orgasm rolling.

After another eternity, Rin let out a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a groan, going loose and boneless in Makoto’s arms. At once Makoto stopped moving, though he didn’t pull out; he was still hard, and it helped keep Rin in place.

“Feel better now?” he murmured, against the side of Rin’s sweaty neck.

Rin’s mouth was hanging open, slightly. His eyes were glazed, and his face was wet; it was as though he could no longer hear. After a few beats, he blinked, his eyes focusing, and then shook himself back to life.

(When he spoke, his voice was slightly cracked from screaming, but fortunately Makoto did not comment on this.)

“...Makoto.”

“Yeah?”

“...We _have_ to do this again.”

Makoto chuckled.

“What, like right now?”

He was clearly joking, but Rin didn’t take it as one. He thought for a moment.

“No,” he decided, eventually. “Maybe in like a couple minutes.” He waited until Makoto finished sputtering before adding, pointedly, “You _said_ you wanted to help.”

Makoto gulped, but he seemed to think better of arguing.

“I did say that...”

“Uh-huh.” Rin ran a hand back through his slightly damp hair to push it out of his eyes, and then smirked, lazily. “I'll let you know when I've had enough.”

(It took three more rounds before he tapped out, but by then he was feeling _much_ better.)

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated! Let me know if you enjoyed this... sinful... _thing_.
> 
> You can find me on [Tumblr](http://andreaphobia.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/andreaphobia).


End file.
